In days of yore, a tale unfolds,
Of reverence lost, in shadows cold.
Once, a gem, precious and pure,
In sacred temple, she did endure.
Not for eyes of lust to pry,
But for love's gaze, to sanctify.
Her form a light, a beacon bright,
Shielded from greed's consuming blight.
Yet time's cruel march did steal away,
The reverence that once held sway.
Tears now fall like rain, a lamenting cry,
For what once was, now bids goodbye.
Whom to blame for this solemn plight?
Men of greed or women's flight?
In this fractured world, torn and worn,
The truth lies lost, like ears of corn.
This is not merely verse, but a solemn rune,
A lament for reverence, lost too soon.
If wishes could weave, like horses in flight,
They'd bring back reverence, in love's pure light.
Imran Nazeer
~ ~ ~
~ ~ ~
Post a Comment